Along came a mockingbird
by JoMiSm
Summary: For sunkissed13! :) Natasha and Clint have a fight, but before they can make up, Clint bumps into a friend from the past: Barbara Morse. Natasha-Clint-Bobbi love triangle. TRIANGLE. DO YOU SEE THIS. TRI. ANGLE.
1. Chapter 1

**_For Sunkissed13! XD And, guys, hey. Slight spoiler for later. I'm a clintasha shipper. The shipper tag is clintasha, not Clint/Bobbi. But. But. It won't all be clintasha._**

**_Disclaimer: Yes, it's true! I own marvel! Jk._**

**_Warning: this story will hurt your clintasha feels._**

* * *

"No." Natasha glared, though Clint knew she wasn't really mad.

"Why not, Tasha? I told you mine!" Clint protested.

"Because." Natasha said, tossing a strawberry at his face. Clint reached up instinctively to catch it.

"C'mon, Nat, tell me your birthday." Clint pleaded, tossing the strawberry into his mouth.

"No!" Natasha insisted. Clint started again, but Natasha cut him off. "If you ask me one more time, I'll kick you out." Oh, but that coming from Natasha makes it not a threat, but a promise.

Clint raised an eyebrow; challenge accepted. "Hey Tasha-" A blur of red and black later, Clint found himself staggering out Natasha's door, which slammed into his face. "Aw, come on. You could've at least left me the strawberries." He muttered. A muffled chuckle reached his ears; um, no. He wasn't getting her strawberries.

"Fine." Clint said, walking away, an idea forming. If she wouldn't tell him her birthday, he'd find out himself. Why? Well, he really needed to know who was older! Come on, that information could come in handy in the future. He could make fun of her for being old or for being young; prime teasing material either way! He cheered himself on all the way to the less-busy computer control room.

Clint looked around nonchalantly. No one else was in the room-good. He moved to a computer far from the door. He felt slightly uneasy as he typed in his passcode to get in to her file, but the unease turned to surprise when a pop-up he'd never encountered before blocked the screen.

_You are not authorized to view this information if you are not Admin_Fury, Admin_Hill, Admin_Coulson, or User_Romanoff._

That's really strange... every other thing on the network that Clint had ever encountered gave you access depending upon your level, not who you are. With a sigh, he erased his username, Clinton_Barton, and put in Natasha's, Natasha_Romanoff. But then came his least favorite part: the password. He could barely remember his own half of the time!

"Ahhh, spider?" Clint murmured, typing in that word.

"Access denied." The computer replied, rather loudly.

Hourglass.

"Access denied." The screen flashed red for a moment.

Clint.

"Access denied." Clint drooped; that's a blow to his pride. The screen flashed red twice; he only had one try left before the SHIELD tech nerds were notified of hackers.

Clint thought for a moment, then, hopelessly, typed in Red Room. No one would think of that, right? No one knew that part of her past; Clint barely knew, and he'd known her for years.

"Access granted." Natasha's file instantly pulled up before his eyes, to his astonishment. She had a predictable password! Wow. Who would've guessed?

He scrolled to the DOB blank... Well. Blank. That's just wrong, man, after all of the trouble he'd been through. There was, however, a footnote, which read _Agent Romanoff's exact DOB is unknown due to extensive brainwashing._

Brainwashing...

Clint, unable to help himself, read on.

* * *

"Barton." Natasha said from right behind his chair, her voice accusing. Clint jumped guiltily.

"Tasha, I-" he started. Natasha immediately cut him off, dangling her SHIELD issued cell phone in front of his face.

"Did you know that every time you type in your password wrong, you get an automatic email alert?" Natasha's face was stony.

"Natasha, I was looking for your birthday-" Clint tried, realizing the devastating mistake he'd made.

"And yet, you were reading through the list of innocents that I killed while under the Soviet's control." Natasha said. Clint was not, in any way, as good at reading people as Natasha herself was, but even he could hear the betrayal coloring her words. The shame at her past. The trust he had broken. Utter silence stretched between them.

"Tasha, I'm sorry." Clint finally whispered.

Natasha's eyes hardened. "Don't call me Tasha, Barton." Natasha said stiffly. Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and left the room.

* * *

"Natasha!" Clint yelled, banging his fist against the door.

"Go away." was her muffled, cold reply.

"Natasha!" Clint yelled again, causing the door to shudder beneath his weight. Silence came from inside. "Nat." Clint said softly, leaning his head against the door. "Please open the door."

Unexpectedly, the door swung open. Clint fell to the ground, hitting it hard. The first thing he saw when he re-opened his eyes was a pair of meticulously shined black boots. Clint gazed up sheepishly.

"When I say go away, I mean go away!" Natasha growled down at him. And then he was shoved out into the hallway, staring at the closed door.

Clint rubbed his forehead tiredly, then turned on his heel and stormed away. She had, of course, every right to be angry, but he still felt as though he'd been justified in his attempt to look for her birthday. Besides, he was just exhausted by their constant back-and-forth arguing. She constantly pushed him away, even though she already knew almost every secret that he had. He didn't try to hide things from her! Thoughts flew through his mind as he stormed, progressively more angry, through the halls. At least, he was storming through the halls, before he bumped into someone at an extremely high speed.

Clint looked up, ready to scare the living daylights out of whoever dared to bump into him today, of all days. "Hey-" Clint started angrily.

He was interrupted. "Hey yourself, Kid." The woman he'd bumped into said. Clint looked sharply at her face.

Oh, my god.

"Barbara?"

"It's Agent Morse now. Or, y'know, Bobbi. Anything but Barbara." Bobbi corrected.

"I-but-? I thought you were dead!" Clint said. They'd been friends, almost more than friends, back when they'd been in the circus together. (She still called him 'kid' only because she was exactly a month older than him; that'd used to be a big deal to them.)

"Oh, you know me. Kinda hard to keep me down." Bobbi joked, climbing to her feet and helping him up. "Y'doing anything? I'd love to catch up."

"I'm-" Clint looked behind him, towards Natasha's room. Then, he defiantly thought-she didn't control his life. "I'm free. Lets go." Clint said, turning with her. They walked out, toward the SHIELD cafeteria.

Neither of them noticed Natasha, tentatively walking toward Clint to apologize. Barbara Morse... Natasha had some research to do.

* * *

**I know her past is not accurate! I am recreating her character for the movie verse! **

**...review...? Please? **

**-JoMiSm**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks for all of the support after all of the hate, guys. Gosh. DID NO ONE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE? ;"( **_

* * *

Barbara Morse.

A new agent, fresh out of the academy. She had been missing and presumed dead by all who knew her-which pretty much was just Barton-and had come from the same circus as Clint.

Oh, God. They shared a past.

Natasha buried her face in her hands, taking a deep breath. _Sort out your emotions, Natasha. Think. _

_Anger. _

HOW COULD HE GO OFF WITH HER LIKE HE HADN'T JUST HURT HER FEELINGS?

_Possessiveness. _

He's MY partner. MINE.

_Jealousy. _

Why didn't he ever look at me like that?

_Wait, jealousy? _

No. I am not going to go down THAT path.

With that thought, Natasha completely shut down that thought process, instead focusing on what came naturally to her. Planning, spying, sabotage, murder.

Well, maybe not murder... but I wouldn't test her at the moment.

* * *

Clint sat across from Bobbi at one of Shield's many cafeteria tables. It was a bit like high school, only everyone was armed. (Legally rather than illegally.)

He had expected only to catch up, but he had instead fallen into several old habits. His accent became slightly more pronounced when influenced by hers. He became more flamboyant as he had been at the circus. His memories of near kisses and that one time at the top of the Ferris wheel became clearer and he had to fight them from his mind. He became like a teenager again, the somewhat intimidating darkness shoved to the edge of his mind. He smiled freely.

She talked and he talked and neither of them noticed Natasha standing in the doorway, then the food line, and then right behind them. They were very absorbed in reminiscing and joking together.

Natasha sighed. Bobbi didn't seem to have a shady bone in her body-not that appearances meant anything-and she was just like Barton. Their personalities must have been shaped together in the past by the circus. She stood and left, missing the conversation's turn to the topic of herself.

"So, you and that redhead chick-are you, like, together?" Bobbi asked shamelessly, casually talking a sip of her drink with a raised eyebrow.

Clint choked (gracefully) on his bite of food and grasped at his drink. Bobbi laughed as he drank with a dirty look to her. "You are a jerk, you know that. Laughing while I choke." Clint said, trying to give her a serious look. He failed.

"It was a legitimate question. I've officially been one of the Shieldies for three days and that is probably ninety-nine percent of the gossip that I've heard." Bobbi said, still looking as though she expected an answer.

"We're just partners." Clint said.

"I don't believe you." Bobbi immediately shot back.

A lovely argument ensued that was immediately eavesdropped upon by at least five people. Somehow, the argument ended up at this:

"Then how come no one has ever seen you on a date since you two became partners?"

"Lots of reasons-" he was cut off by Bobbi.

"Like what?" Bobbi said. It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Missions and training and stuff." Clint responded defensively.

"Stuff? _Stuff?_ Really convincing me there, Kid." Bobbi laughed.

"Well, it's true."

"Then prove it. Ask somebody on a date." Bobbi said. Before he could protest, she added "I _dare_ you." Oooh, a dare. It just got serious. Several of the eavesdroppers exchanged looks.

Immediately accepting to spare his manly pride, he looked around the cafeteria. Juniors, idiotic stuck-up seniors, and dudes filled the room. "There's no one to ask out!" he said. He couldn't ask any of them out.

"Come on, Clint, be creative." She tried not to laugh as he scanned the area again for anyone, anyone who he could ask out without looking foolish. He looked back at her.

Split second decision to be made here.

"Miss Barbara Morse," Clint said, his voice choked with dramatic fake emotion. He placed a hand over his heart. "Will you go on a date with me?"

There was a brief moment of silence before she burst into laughter. Clint looked injured as she stifled her giggles to reply, "Ahhhh, that's hilarious."

"I'm _injured!_" Clint said, looking crushed with a hint of laughter in his eyes.

"No offense, kiddo," One month. That _one month_ separating them. "But _you_ and _me_? No way." _  
_

Clint actually did take offense at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"See? You took offense." There were a few moments of silence before she said, startled, "Oh! You actually want an answer! Where do I start?" Clint scoffed. Sure, he had his faults, but he wasn't that bad. "You're really cocky, you have an unhealthy obsession with that bow, you're an idiot-" She ticked them off on her fingers and dissolved into giggles again at his expression. "Kidding! I'm kidding! I dunno, I've just never thought about it."

"That's not what you said on the Ferris wheel." Clint said tauntingly. Bobbi flushed and facepalmed.

"Shut up. That was forever ago." Bobbi responded. They were _kids_.

"Well, I asked you and I am now officially out of the dare. See ya." Clint said, standing with a wave. Bobbi watched him go.

* * *

It was several hours later when Clint's door was knocked on. He usually wasn't in this room on base because he tended to stay with Natasha, so he had no clue who it was. When he opened the door to Bobbi, he was vaguely surprised.

"Hey...?" Clint said. _Why are you here _was implied.

She looked fake-offended. "When a man asks me on a date, I expect him to follow through." she said.

Clint laughed at her expression and hesitated. He had actually been contemplating apologizing to Natasha, but this could be fun...and he hadn't seen his friend in forever. "Well then let's go." he said. And they did exactly that; they went on a date.

* * *

**_Look, I AM A CLINTASHA SHIPPER. DO NOT RAGE AT ME. MY BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW (Jan 4) AND I WROTE THIS FOR YOU. I EXPECT VIRTUAL CUPCAKES, NOT FLAMES. :) I love you and will take each review to heart-so think carefully before posting. _**

**_-JoMiSm_**


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